You Can’t Save White People

I am dedicating this blog to my friend Beth, who I love to make laugh, and she does me the honor of laughing at my silly stories. We thought this was blog worthy.

Even before the pandemic, waaaaaaay back in the aughts, I thought I was the luckiest person in the world when a grocery delivery company started operating in my area. I don’t like shopping, I don’t like going into stores. I said then that if I could have everything delivered to me and never had to leave the house again, I’d be happy. So my apologies that I may have contributed to the pandemic with my reckless wishing. I’ve read enough fairy tales about how those wishes end, and I know better.

But I still had to go to the store to get my wine. Oh sure, I had dabbled in the wine of the month club, which was just barely affordable with careful selections. But the few times I couldn’t schedule the delivery for when I was home (this was before working from home was a thing for most of us), the trip to the Fed Ex office and the chaos of finding my undelivered wine in the back somewhere, and having to haul 12 bottles to my car cured me of the wine club. Princess doesn’t like to carry a case of wine.

So I spent many a weekend afternoon buying my own wine, in the store. The horror. Of course they got to know me, which is mildly embarrassing. Also, sometimes I’m in the mood for chit chat, but mostly I’m not, so that got awkward too. And when the pandemic came, going to the store for alcohol just seemed utterly reckless, until I had to work long days, two months straight, 7 days a week in the spring of 2020, and then it was as necessary as toilet paper.

But then in 2021, the angels heard my pleas and Drizly ads began to appear. Wine! Delivered to my door! I wasn’t working 7 days a week any more, but COVID still had a few surges left up her sleeve, so I was still working too hard and fearing for peoples’ lives. And perhaps I was drinking too much, but as the pilot in “Airplane” taught me, I did not want to pick the wrong week to stop sniffing glue. The majority of drivers were people of color, so I definitely had some white guilt, and hoped the gig work was what they wanted to do. I tipped well. I started getting the same driver, and he was very friendly. After the 3rd delivery, he handed over my wine and said with a helpful smile, “Tea is good for stress too!” I thanked him and thought, “Like hell!” and “I need to schedule delivery at another time so I don’t get him anymore.” Mostly I felt bad for him because he was so sincere, and it was totally wasted on me.

COVID finally got down to a dull roar, so my deliveries weren’t quite as frequent, and I did not get anymore helpful advice. A few months ago, though, I realized Drizly had increased their fees to be a percentage of the order. Previously it had been a small flat fee, which I was happy to pay for the privilege of delivery. That was on top of a delivery fee and a tip. But it was worth it as the whole point of delivery was to get a bunch of wine at once, rather than walk to the store for a few bottles at a time or drive to a store to stock up. See the first paragraph about me and stores.

But this percentage nonsense made the whole delivery thing so ridiculously expensive, even princess couldn’t justify it. I declared to the kid, who is old enough to drink, that we would now need to walk to the store around the corner! Gasp! The store is owned by very friendly Spanish-speaking people, and once again I found myself the object of helpful advice. One time I had 3 bottles of wine and a pint of tomatoes.

“These are better for you!” said the man at the cash register, holding up the tomatoes, smiling. Sigh. I smiled back, and said, “Yes!” It occurred to me maybe he, like the Drizly delivery drivers, see a parade of white people buying wine by the bottles, by the gallon, by the case. And they are trying to save us from ourselves. Or maybe it’s just me, the seemingly nice middle-aged white lady with a shit-load of wine. And they are trying to save me from myself.

I truly appreciate their efforts, and I’m sorry to say I’m a hopeless case.

Thankfully I didn’t have to worry the store workers for too long. A Total Wine store opened up near me with, you guessed it, delivery that only includes a flat delivery fee. I’ve had 2 deliveries so far, and no suggestions, but I know it takes awhile. Sooner or later it’s bound to happen again. Maybe I should put up a sign, so they save their hope for someone they can actually help. “Black Lives Matter, and White People Drink” Hmmm. there may a connection there, but that’s another blog.

Photo credit: 8 Black-Owned Wines to Try


  1. Aw thank you my friend. I’m still laughing! I love listening to your stories and always will!

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